


It runs in the family.

by NyxSolei



Category: Constantine (Comic), Constantine (TV), Hellblazer
Genre: Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Depression, Feels, Hellblazer - Freeform, M/M, Mental Breakdown, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Recovery
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-01-05
Updated: 2016-01-06
Packaged: 2018-05-11 23:55:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,594
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5646406
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NyxSolei/pseuds/NyxSolei
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>John can't stand not doing a thing on this day. He just---can't. He has to do something to take his mind off this. H has to do something to forget.<br/>Chas is there to give him a hand.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Church day

**Author's Note:**

> This is a fresh start for me with Constantine. Hope you enjoy it♥

He looked at his feet and couldn’t recognize **where** he was standing, or **what** he intended to do. He looked around him and all he could see was a dark shadow hovering over his head. His head- it hurt so much, but he couldn’t figure out **why**.

John was completely blank unbalanced at that time, and if it wasn’t for the man taking his hand and forcing him to run away, he would probably continue standing there like thousand years old untouched statue.

  
“Zed, get me the bottle over there.” He sounded in a hurry, which he was- considering the state John got himself into.   
That’s right, got himself into.   


 

* * *

 

  
He was drinking his third whiskey cup in the last hour, lighting up a cigarette with a sigh. John was lazily sitting on the couch, watching the map- nothing appeared. It was strange: it was sunday morning, their favourite time to make trouble. And yet, the map was blank. 

Zed was painting quietly in her own spot, which bothered him a lot. He was used to her whining about the cigarettes, or the drinking, or whatever that damned woman wanted to complain about. He wouldn’t admit it, but without her complaining, he’d have no restrains.   
Chas was in one of the rooms, training. And the thumps and the hits were the only thing that disturbed the silence on that sunday morning.    
John was never so bored.   
  
He looked at the empty cup of whiskey, then at the empty bottle. Then, he got up, walking outside. The world cursed him with this quiet day. Why this day out of all days? He needed to do something, he needed to be active.   
“Hey.” Chas joined by his side,”How are you handling?”

He lit up another cigarette,”Bored out of my mind, mate.” He sighed and took the smoke inside.   
“I figured. I got us a case not far from here. You’re coming?”   
He smirked,”Get the keys.”

 

“People seeing dead people, that’s just bloody great. Don’t they know that what’s dead should stay dead?” He looked outside the window as they got to the place.    
Chas folded his arms,”Cemetery check?”   
John smiled and lead the way,”You read my mind mate.”   
It wasn’t easy for John to do anything on this day. But it was even worse to sit and do none. He had to be active, to take his mind off the f **act that-**   
  
“I don’t see any open graves. Nor any spell marks anywhere.” 

The cemetery looked...well… good. It was clean, and shiny and filled with blooming flowers and everything John didn’t want to see and couldn’t stand. If you ever ask him, burying the dead is such a hypocrisy. He asked himself more than once what’s the point in burying dead meat bags, and it didn’t matter how many times Chas tried to explain it, he still thought it was stupid.   
**Perhaps because..**   
“Well mate, it’s time to get a lil’ bit of more infomation. Do you have a list of those people?”   
Chas wiggled his mouth so it looked like a small smile,”No. But I can get it.”   
“Great.” He said bitterly.

* * *

The old woman that was sitting in front of them smiled weakly. She was shaking the whole time they talked, and kept on shaking when they sat down on her sofa, and she offered them tea. They both denied it out of habit- don’t eat what you haven’t made, they have enough enemies already.

“So, could you tell us what exactly you saw?” John leaned forward, on his arms, jerking his head out as if it’ll help process whatever she’s about to tell them.

“Oh, you mean about Charles, dear?” She put her walking cane aside and took a sip of her tea,”Well, it was about midnight I think, I went down to the kitchen, when I heard rattling.” She smiled warmly at them,”Are you sure you don’t want some tea?”   
“No, thank you.” John answered.   
“Where was I?..” She focused her look at the teacup, trying to remember.   
“You heard rattling.” Chas followed.   
“Oh, right. I heard rattling and at first I thought it was my cat, Thomas. But it wasn’t! Right in front of me, shining and glowing in purple and yellow, Charles was standing!” She grinned,”He looked at me however, and looked much sad. He tried to talk and then disappeared. Oh, such a shame.” She shook her head sadly.   
“Thank you, ma’am, but have you noticed anything unusual? A necklace? A new tattoo? Anything?” John folded his arms. This is taking too long, and he is too much on the edge anyway.   
“Now that you mentioned it, he did had a mark around his neck. A red mark with a lot of gibberish written on it.”   
Chas and John exchanged looks, they were thinking about the same thing.

And if they were right, boy do they need to hurry.


	2. Gloria

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Do you have anyone in low places?” Chas walked to him, folding his arms.  
> “Just an old friend.”

“I have the book. Did you know that there is almoust no store that sells the bible here? You’d think they’d have some faith. Or something of alike.” John snorted, leaving the bible in the middle of the circle. He moved back and stood in front of it.   
“Are you sure you can contain it?” Chas asked, standing next to him with a lit candle.    
John smiled,”Have to try.” He shrugged, pulled his sleeves up and stared at the book.   
“I call the son of El, reciever of lost souls, protector of the Shama’im gates and the Ge-henom.”   
The bible immediatly began to glow, words ripping out of the paper, flying in the middle of the circle. Immense wind came out of it, almoust pushing both of them back.   
“Mot, I call thee upon the earth.” He said, and the wind stopped. The words that flew around formed a body- a deformed man with great horns, long hair and eyes the project the sun.    
The creature looked at John, then at Chas, as if questioning the reason it is here.    
“Mot. God of death. Messed up with the folks here lately? Got bored down there, mate?” John folded his arms, walking around the containment circle.   
Mot opened his mouth a little, and instead of lips, he had liquid, “John Constantine.” He mumbled, staying still,”What can a fool ask a magician?” He grumbled lowly.   
John stopped behind the creature,”Tell me, mate, you’ve been messin’ up with the dead? Bringing ‘em back to life?”   
Mot laughed. A laugh that could haunt anyone in nightmares.    
“Truce with lesser demons makes us gate-keepers strong.” He said,”I give hosts, they give the soul.”   
John sighed and ran his hands through his hair. This is far worse than they thought. This isn’t a simple resurrection. This is invasion. And if it’s seen here, it’s probably worse in other places.   
“Listen you bloody demon, I will find your partners and I swear in everything that’s important to me I will rip them apart and send them to you in pieces.” He growled and signed to Chas to drop the candle.   
He did exactly so, and the last thing they heard before the god vanished in flames, was it’s laughter. After a few moments, it was only them standing in an old garage that was filled with white paint and a burned bible.

“Do you have anyone in low places?” Chas walked to him, folding his arms.   
“Just an old friend.”

* * *

 

“John. You’re out of your mind.” He said, following him. 

They were out in the city again, trying to find some other isolated room, one they haven’t burned yet. Chas was worried. Sick worried. He knew already how John feels every year on this day, even if he doesn’t deliberately say it out loud. He knows him enough time to see the little changes in the mood, the anxious behaviour, the yearn for isolation.

He knows he feels **guilty**. 

John laughed,”Did so once, can’t it work again?” He lit up a cigarette and sat down next to the door of a run-down building. The only place they could do the cast.

Chas took the cigarette out of his mouth and threw it away,”John. I know that it’s hard for you right now. But there’s absolutly no reason for you to cast a demon inside you again. It barely worked the last time, barely.”    
John smirked,”What other choice do we have, mate? We need to find the lesser demon Mot was using, and we can do it only through this. I’ll set up a containment ring, and as soon as you have everything you need, just exorcise it.” He grabbed another cigarette, but before he even managed to light it, Chas threw it away,”I am not an exorcist. I don’t do talking, John. I have a better idea.”

* * *

 

The room was dusty, and there was a hole in the floor. They got to the second floor, where there’s no chance any other person will pass by. That’s the last thing they need when he’s gonna cast Pazuzu into Chas. ****  
He was against it from the very beginning, he hated risking his friend this way. If anyone should get hurt today, that’s him. **It’s his fault, after all.**   
Chas was sitting, tied up and in a middle of an Assyrian pray ring. He poured desert dust, lighting up the fire around it and sitting in front of Chas. He looked at him miserably. He didn’t want to do it, but he had to. 

“Do it. We don’t have much time.”


End file.
